


Rain Tea

by DawnsEternalLight



Series: Dick and Dami Week 2019 [6]
Category: Batman (Comics), Batman and Robin (Comics)
Genre: Fluff, Gen, It's honestly just fluff, No editing we die like mne, Rain, snuggle fic, soft fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-13
Updated: 2019-04-13
Packaged: 2020-01-12 21:27:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18454946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DawnsEternalLight/pseuds/DawnsEternalLight
Summary: Rainy days and fire go well together, especially when Dick and Damian are together.





	Rain Tea

Dick climbed off his motorcycle and ran to get into the manor, flinging the door open as soon as he got it unlocked to stand dripping on the front mat. He shook his hands, looking down at his soaked jacket, water darkened jeans, and squishy tennis shoes.

“Stupid storm caught me while I was halfway through errands.” He said.

He looked up to find no one waiting in the hall for him. This would normally not be odd, only he’d just talked to Damian, and the kid was supposed to be waiting for him. Dick wouldn’t admit it to Damian (or risk a cease of the habit) but whenever they were apart for a while and Dick was finally in town Damian waited for him at the door.

It was cute, and always made Dick’s heart twinge a little bit, it always made him promise himself that next time he wouldn’t be away so long. Next time he wouldn’t make Damian miss him that long.

He pulled his helmet off his head, and ran his fingers through hair drenched with rain, slicking it away from his forehead. The helmet and his soaked leather jacket found their way on the hooks by the door. Dick tugged shoes and socks off and stepped inside, happy to have avoided a look and lecture for “tracking mud into the house”.

Changing into dry clothes was the first thing on his mind, but as Dick passed the livingroom he smelled smoke, and heard the gentle crackle of a fire in the hearth. He poked his head inside. It was warm and cheery. The room lit in a gentle orange against the oppressive darkness outside.

Damian was curled by the fire, back pressed the the brick ledge of the fireplace so the flames warmed his shoulders and neck. His knees were pulled forward, his sketchbook propped on them as he focused. Dick smiled at the way his brother had his tongue poking out in concentration.

He strolled inside, drippy and all, to flop down on the ledge beside Damian. The warmth was immediate, wrapping around him almost like a blanket.

“Whatcha drawing?” he asked, knowing it would irritate his brother. No hi, no warning, just Dick showing up and interrupting him. It was perfect.

Damian huffed and finished shading in a pencil sketch of Titus. He set his pencil down in between bricks so it wouldn’t roll away and turned to face Dick.

“You are late.”

That explained the lack of brother at the door.

Damian’s eyes narrowed at him, “You are also drenched.”

“I am.” Dick agreed, “I got caught on the bike without warning.”

Damian rolled his eyes, “A simple cursory examination of the weather forcast or even the sky would have given you sufficient warning, Grayson.”

“You and I are both very aware of how often I bother to check the weather.”

“I do remember a few nights of patrol where you were freezing your--”

“Yes!” Dick stopped him, “You weren’t supposed to hear me say words like that.”

Damian grinned, a wicked sharp grin at him, “I hear everything.”

The fire at Dick’s back was toasting him wonderfully, pulling at the water on his neck, dripping down from his hair. It was doing little for his pants, which felt too tight and not at all comfortable. As much as he wanted to stay right there, chatting merrily with Damian, he didn’t want the experience of air drying his jeans to be a part of this memory.

“Right.” Dick grinned at him, “So you also heard every time I told you not to run into danger?”

“Tt. I cannot be expected to remember everything you ever told me. You talked ceaselessly as Batman. You still have not broken that habit.”

“Then I’ll leave you in silence for a bit. I’m not even moving and these jeans are chafing.”

“Do not describe it.” Damian wrinkled his nose at him, “Go change and return, we have much to talk about.”

Dick did as he was bade, standing from the small puddle that had formed under him (to Damian’s “Disgusting, Richard”) and moved from the room, hurrying up to his own. It was almost like pulling his Nightwing uniform off, getting out of the pants. His legs could breathe again.

He returned downstairs in sweats, with his hair towel dried. Damian had cleaned up his puddle and had two mugs on the ledge by him. He’d moved to sit up on it, probably to allow more heat to penetrate his back.

Damian lifted his own mug to sip at it as Dick sat down next to him. A glance told him Damian had poured them both tea, though only Damian’s cup still had the string of a tea bag still fluttering on the side of the mug.

“I thought you hated the bagged stuff.” Dick commented, tapping his fingers on the side of his mug.

“It is acceptable sometimes.” Damian told him, glancing at the window where rain still pelted down in a pitter patter, “I like this flavor when it is raining.”

“Oh?” Dick asked.

His brother shrugged, “It is rich and soothing, and seems to match the mood of most rainstorms.”

Dick sipped at his own mug. When the flavor registered, he grinned at Damian who almost instantly blushed. Well, the Damian version of blush anyway, which was a scowl and him turning his face away to “get his blood under control” or something nonsensical like that.

It was a black tea, flavored with spices like cinnamon, nutmeg, and ginger. Something bright and warming, and aptly named Christmas Tea. Damian must have bought up boxes and boxes of the stuff to still have it in the Spring.

It had been all Dick had on hand one night, back when they were still Batman and Robin together. They’ hunkered down in a safe house Dick had stocked forever ago, the rain outside at monsoon levels.

Damian had been sniffly and cold, and Dick wanted to avoid him getting sick, so he’d bundled the lad and they’d sat sipping at the spiced tea all night as the rain thundered and roared outside.

It seemed it was as good a memory to Damian as it was to Dick.

“It has nothing to do with you.” Damian denied.

“I didn’t say it did.”

Dick leaned back, a little closer to the fire hearing the crackle as it mixed with the rain outside.

“It’s a lot more cozy today then we were that night.”

“Tt. A fireplace in a safe house would be a liability. An intruder could sneak down it.” Damian said, tugging at the tea bag in his mug.

“Oh? Like Santa?”

“Richard if you insist on speaking of that man--”

Dick laughed, “Okay, okay. No Santa jokes. It’s not even July.”

At Damian’s confused look Dick laughed again.

“Stop being an idiot.” Damian huffed, and sipped at his tea.

Dick spotted Damian’s sketchbook on the floor, leaned against the brick. He reached down and picked it up, handing it to Damian.

“Show me what you’ve been working on lately. I don’t get to see your art very often anymore.”

Damian flipped open the book and they sat together for a while looking over the pages. Gradually, Damian leaned over and into Dick’s arm, until he was resting fully against him, the book almost forgotten as his descriptions were slower and slower, his eyes heavy.

Dick sipped at his tea, and ran his fingers through Damian’s hair, stepping in to fill in Damian’s descriptions.

“And this one must be a magical creature, unless you’ve actually met a unicorn.” he said, as Damian flipped to what was an actual sketch of a unicorn, “You know your dad has met one before, I think he named it Biscuits. Tim too. If you ever met one, you’d bring it home right away wouldn’t you?”

Damian mumbled some affirmative and Dick chuckled lightly, threading his fingers through Damian’s hair again. It was so soft. Loose curls and waves atop his head that flowed like silk through his fingers. Dick loved it at this length, long enough to play with, and have Damian not mind.

“I do have to say I’m surprised you haven’t drawn Wiggles. Your dragon friend is quite the figure.”

Damian stirred a bit at this, “Wiggles is a fine dragon, I do not need to draw her to have,” he yawned, “One upped Father and Drake’s magical meetings.”

Dick chuckled again, leaning down to press a kiss into the hair he’d been missing. “You might have already done that with Goliath.”

His brother shifted closer to him, and Dick had to catch the sketchbook as it slid out of his lap. Uncaring, Damian curled into Dick’s side, burrowing his head into Dick’s chest.

Dick shifted so he was leaning against stone, and Damian was almost laid against him, curled as the fire and Dick kept him warm. Dick picked his tea back up and continued to sip at it, smiling. He’d have to buy more of this tea for Damian, especially if they continued to build good memories around it and rain.


End file.
